


Misunderstandings

by Hekate1308



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: In many ways, Crowley should have seen it coming. Clever as Aziraphale was, the angel could be oblivious to many things; and yet –Or, the one where Crowley was convinced they got married 6000 years ago and Aziraphale never realized.





	Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone. Enjoy!

**Present Day – One Day To The End Of The World**

In many ways, Crowley should have seen it coming. Clever as Aziraphale was, the angel could be oblivious to many things; and yet –

And yet.

 _Well_ , he thought bitterly as he drove back to his flat to see which part of the universe he would go to, _at least Doomsday will save me the trouble of getting a divorce. Not that one is necessary_

**4000 Years Ago – Mesopotamia**

The world hadn’t been around for long when Crowley realized that Aziraphale was one of the few beings on it he could stand, or with whom he wanted to spend any amount of time. The other demons were annoying at best and vicious at worst; Crowley didn’t have anything against fomenting a little discontent, tempt someone to sin or cause some small inconveniences that would spread arguments, but what Hastur and Ligur got up to…

The point was, Aziraphale was probably the only decent being he’d met so far, not counting the few humans who actually knew the difference between right and wrong. But humans were mortal. Aziraphale, on the other hand…

Crowley knew perfectly well that them getting blessed was out of the question. Not only would every angel and demon probably have been able to tell upon seeing them what had happened, but he wasn’t very good with consecrated grounds, no matter what God they were supposedly sacred for.

But there were other things he could do.

A marriage contract was ridiculous, of course. What exactly were they supposed to plan for? That Aziraphale would end up in Hell fire or Crowley being melted by holy water? They’d have other problems then than who their worldly possessions went to.

But this gift-giving thing the humans did wasn’t a bad idea at all. Crowley had very early on in their acquaintance learned that Aziraphale liked to eat despite not needing to – Crolwey decided it must be like him and his fondness for sleep – and so he got him some dates.

It wasn’t difficult to find Aziraphale. He always took his job so seriously. Crowley would have considering it heart-warming if he had been allowed to.

“Aziraphale!” he strolled up to him. “What are you up to?”

“Crowley!” Unlike his brethren, the angel usually looked pleased to see him – when they weren’t busy thwarting each other’s plans. “Just the usual. A few blessings. Nothing, really. What about you?”

“Just like you, really, usual stuff – temptations and what not” Crowley said smoothly, trying not to appear to eager. “But I saw you standing here and I thought, maybe – you know – you’d like some dates. I happened by a street vendor, you see.”

There. That sounded perfect. Considerate but not _too_ considerate, and he was doing none of those silly love confessions the humans – well, loved to give each other. He and Aziraphale had known each other a while, they were best friends; that was what was important, wasn’t it?

“You – oh, Crowley, you didn’t have to!” Aziraphale beamed as he took the gift.

He liked them, too; it was quite obvious. Crowley looked on proudly as he ate them.

So. That was part of the ceremony then. Aziraphale hadn’t known it would happen today, of course, and therefore didn’t have a gift for him; but when humans got married, only one of them gave gifts. Crowley had checked, although he still couldn’t remember whether it was the bride or the groom – truth be told, he always had trouble keeping them apart.

Then there was the other thing. Strangely enough, he felt more nervous about the ring than the dates – which was idiotic; he was a demon, he didn’t get nervous.

“I also got you this – you know, it being a tradition and all.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I don’t think earth’s been around long enough to have traditions yet.”

“Just a figure of speech” Crowley hastened to correct himself. “But here –“

Maybe asking for wings on the ring had been a bit cliché, but then, Aziraphale liked his white robes and his symbolism, so why not?

“Oh, this is lovely! Thank you so much, Crowley!”

Yes, all in all, it was a very satisfying marriage ceremony.

And of course, Crowley invited him to dinner, then. It was the proper thing to do.

**Present Day – One Day To The End Of The World**

Really, how could he have been so stupid? He should have made it clear to the angel back in Mesopotamia that they were getting married.

 _Only he wouldn’t have said yes, would he? He doesn’t even think of you as a friend, apparently,_ the treacherous voice in the back of Crowley’s head whispered.

He swallowed ands concentrated on driving.

**Rome – 41 AD**

Despite being married, Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t see each other that often. Oh, they still met more frequently than they saw any other creature, except for their bosses, but he decided that didn’t really count.

And, just like he had thought when they had the ceremony, Aziraphale was usually pleased to see him – usually; now and then, he was a little annoyed, but that was rather understandable, if you asked Crowley. They were supposed to be on different sides, after all, even if they had chosen to be on their own side years ago.

Huh. Not years. Millennia. Crowley always heard from the humans that marriage was supposed to grow stale after a while. That had yet to happen to them. It probably hadn’t because they were immortal.

Crowley was having a drink and trying to forget about this boy Caligula. Really, they should do their research downstairs; there was nothing to be done about him. He was about as insane and evil as one could get already.

“Crowley!”

He turned around and found Aziraphale with a big smile on his face. His mood immediately brightened. At least he could have lunch with his husband.

And this time around it was Aziraphale who tempted him to taste oysters. Crowley smiled. He must be a bad influence.

**The Kingdom Of Wessex – 537 AD**

Really, one would think that after over 4000 years of marriage, Aziraphale would at least bother to learn his name; but that wasn’t what Crowley was currently pondering.

After all, they _were_ married. Why shouldn’t they enter another Arrangement? Maybe Aziraphale had imbibed that rather stupid human notion that husbands and – husbands shouldn’t do business together. Sometimes Crowley really didn’t understand those mortal minds.

And they had had something of a fight once more. Ah well. They would meet again; they always did; and he had no doubt that this time, he would be able to convince Aziraphale that the Arrangement was a good idea.

He was proven right twenty years later, when Aziraphale had enough of the damp and the cold and being unable to find a good restaurants within a hundred miles.

**London – 1601**

Crowley, upon seeing it again – and complete this time – decided that he _really_ didn’t like Hamlet.

But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he had done a miracle for his husband, and that said husband was currently next to him, munching grapes and being (or at least so Crowley believed) the happiest angel in the world at this very moment.

And that was what marriage was all about, wasn’t it? Making each other happy?

“I know you prefer the funny ones” Aziraphale told him, “But the language is beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes, and there is so much of it” Crowley sighed. “Have you heard that when he runs out of words, he just invents new ones? Who does that?”

“A genius” Aziraphale said, his face glowing, and Crowley felt – felt –

Jealous, that was the word he was looking for. Unless that – _writer_ had already invented another one for what he was experiencing, in which case Corley would gladly help to –

“It just seems sad that he will not be around to see what else humans come up with in the next few centuries” Aziraphale added and Crowley realized he had just genuinely been admiring the human’s art. Oh well, in that case…

**Paris, 1793**

Aziraphale was lucky his lot had sent Crowley here with a recommendation, since he’d had no problem declaring the Revolution his work even though the humans had come up with it on their own.

At least the crepes they had were pretty good.

**London – 1862**

His first thought as he watched his husband storm off was that he should have just kept sleeping. This was the worst row they had ever had, and they had had their fair share of fights over the millennia.

But really, had it been too much to ask? Just one small bottle of holy water?

He supposed a human might have found it touching to think that Aziraphale didn’t want anything around Crowley that could harm him.

Not him, of course.

He’d just go back to his place and straight to sleep.

**London – 1941**

Crowley had decided early on during the Second World War that it didn’t bloody manner what his side – well, his official side – thought, he was not going to even bother and try with the Nazis. He’d once checked out the Spanish Inquisition, then got drunk for a week; he was pretty sure that if he did the same with what the Germans were getting up to, he’d have to drink solidly for at least a year.

So, instead, he had decided to work for British Counter Intelligence. If the higher-ups – downer-ups – asked, he could always tell them he was busy making sure the Brits were planning to commit war crimes once they got around to this D-Day they kept babbling about.

Plus, it never hurt to know when the next bombs were going to fall down; he definitely didn’t want to get discorporated. As his spouse – they still had to make up their fight, but really, what were sixty years? – would have said, the paper work would have been a nightmare.

And then came the night when an agent handed him a file about an undercover Nazi spy ring in London. Relay, they weren’t even that well organized, and they were mostly interested in prophecies, so even if they killed a few people here and there, they were not the worst of the bunch –

His first thought when he saw the picture of the bookseller the Nazis had tricked was that he should have known. Who but his clever yet sometimes _very_ dumb husband would ever walk into such an obvious trap?

Alright, time to pit on his new suit and see what he could do. He made a mental note to save the books, too; Aziraphale would like that, and their fight would be forgotten.

As it turned out, the silly angel even thanked him for being _kind_. What else was he supposed to have done? Sit there and watch his husband be killed?

**Soho, London – 1967**

Truth be told, Crowley had mostly forgotten about his request after eighty years; it was only ever supposed to be an insurance policy anyway. And yet Aziraphale had remembered.

He smiled to himself as he drove away, despite the angel claiming that he went to fast for him. Really, how fast _could_ they go, after almost six thousands years of marriage?

**Present Day – One Day To The End Of The World**

Good God, how many times had he been completely and utterly wrong about the angel’s intentions? But no – he couldn’t even say that; he’d been wrong about their entire relationship, from start to finish.

Still, though – Aziraphale was still wearing the ring he gave him, and certainly that was –

No. He stopped that train of thought. Alpha Centauri, that was where he was going to go.

**The bookshop**

Aziraphale should have been concentrating on the approaching end of the world, but instead, he was once more distracted by the fight they’d had.

_An hour ago_

“Go off together?” he repeated. The thought of leaving had never even crossed his mind. He was too fond of earth and the humans who lived on it. “Listen to yourself.”

“How long have we been married? 6000 years!”

Aziarphale opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Finally he managed, “Married!?”

“Well yes, you are still wearing –“ Crowley broke off before continuing, “What do you mean?”

“Crowley, we’re not married! We’re an angel and a demon! We are on different sides!”

One of the things Aziraphale had been sure he’d never see was a demon’s heart breaking, but he did.

“Right” Crowley said slowly. “fine. Right. My mistake.” He turned around and left, only calling out “Have a nice Doomsday!” over his shoulder.

_Now_

Aziraphale didn’t know when or how Crowley had gotten the idea into his head that they were married. They were hereditary enemies, how could he even imagine that –

And then he remembered.

_“You are still wearing –“_

He stared down at the ring on his finger. He vaguely recalled Crowley being the one to give it to him – he’d thought it was a joke at the time, hadn’t he?

Hadn’t he?

Surely, there had to be some –

Mesopotamia, he suddenly recalled, he gave me the ring in Mesopotamia.

A moment later, he had miracled his book about ancient marriage traditions into his hands.

Five minutes after that, it became the first book Aziraphale had ever dropped and not immediately apologized to.

**Crowley’s flat**

Alright, so what should he take with him? His plants had been flourishing lately, it would be quite a shame for them to be wiped out, but it was just unpractical to –

A knock on his door.

He was rather surprised to find his – to find the angel standing there, wringing his hands. “Crowley, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Obviously.” A part of him wished he didn’t sound so bitter, but then he was a demon – bitter was just part of his job description.

“Crowley, I – “ Aziraphale hesitated. “I can’t say I would have said yes if you’d asked, 6000 years ago.”

“I hate to repeat myself, but obviously –“

“But – after thinking about everything we have been though – “ Aziraphale swallowed and Crowley realized he had never seen him so nervous before, not even in the Bastille.

“What I am trying to say is” and he held out his hand.

On his palm lay a ring that looked like a tiny snake.

Crowley stared.

“I think I found the boy. Maybe we should go check it out?”

Crowley looked right into Aziraphale’s eyes.

Then he took the ring to slip it on his finger.


End file.
